She was led in, hands lightly tied behind her back; prodded by the cane and welcomed to the comments of the men in front of her. She was wearing a black low cut and loose chemise falling to stomach level only, that was sleeveless and with plunging neck -- just about holding her D cup tits in place- not her choice of apparel. The chemise fell over the top of a tiny G-string that struggled to cover her sex, the minute triangle just concealing the hood and clit.
She was small, standing at just over five foot and she shivered slightly as her bare feet moved over the oaken floor. Sold by her ex-boyfriend after a number of arguments (and just wait till she got her hands on him when she got out) to 'the club,' she had slipped 'off the map' for a month that had seen her trained hard in the exclusive Northern Slave's emporium. Always looking for a route to escape, so far that had eluded her.
There were three tables in front of her, where she was told she was being sold off for two hours to whichever table produced the highest bid. Although her head was lowered, with her long black hair providing a half mask for her shame, and burning anger, she cast an eye over the men.
The first table made her dread. Four Japanese men sat with suits, round, fat bodies and balding heads. But on the table in front of them they had a selection of huge dildo's and a drill. She had heard another girl brought in a few nights ago, and she couldn't even stand, her legs giving way after a session with these same Japanese.
Table two had three Americans, youthful, yet watchful. It was hard to tell their fetish, but she felt they may be a better option. If she could only connect and get a message out to the one man she knew would rescue her, the one man she had sadly rejected -- but she wanted him now.
The last table had some Arabs and these she recoiled from, having heard of their cruelty and lack of respect for girls.
She felt her master push her head back down and the slight touch of the cane on her rear. This man knew how to hit the cane down to the top of the thigh, or the very cusp of the buttock (or once the top of her breasts); inflicting the most horrendous pain. Yet he was clever enough to not break the skin, never making a cut, but leaving tears in the eye.